Bloodlines and Spilt Blood
by Breezetheory
Summary: She was but a simple girl, with crimson hair and an aptitude towards Dwemer culture. Running oddjobs was her life, until she had enough money to fund an expedition inside a Dwemer ruin, but her goals change drastically, from a simple research project to saving the world, and she didn't want any of it. Rated as a strict M. F!DB/Elisif focus.
1. Chapter 1

**Welcome to my new story, one which I hope I can carry on. I will update this every Sunday, or during the week whenever I have finished more than one chapter. I hope to get some good feedback. Before we continue I HAVE to say that this first chapter is a little rough, featuring rapists and a little bit of torture, but that'll be it for the rest of the story- hopefully. I do no way endorse such violent acts, and I wish it never happens.**

****DISCLAIMER** I do not own anything to do with the Elder Scrolls Series, and all work is done souly for entertainment purposes and no money has been exchanged whatsoever. By disclaiming this I refer all rights to Bethesda Softworks, the truly remarkable game company.**

**Anyway, let's begin.**

_"Everywhere I go, trouble finds me, lost in this eternal circle of being trapped by this one unbreakable barrier, only ever saved when someone legitimately nice comes along. Then it loops, I get trapped again, and I can't escape."_

Forsworn are animals, it's as simple as that. There's no compassion needed, they hardly deserve it after stealing people from their houses and later sacrificing them for no real reason par the 'Forsworn pride' or something like that. Luckily, since they are animals, they don't have very good cages, and so, after a few attempts, picking the lock to the cage is as simple as actually putting a lock pick in there in the first place.

Escaping was easy, too. The place was a simple, old, rundown fort. Very little guards were on duty; presumably they were off raping and pillaging some poor town or village, what guards there were are easy to sneak past, or stab with a goat horn lying around. Again, they're animals.

How the girl even got into this mess was beyond her. A simple courier job, going from Whiterun to Karthwasten, and it had to go past this fort. That's where she went wrong, staying on the so called 'safe' roads. "Never again" She vowed, "I'll never take the roads again" she muttered, collecting a few coins left lying on a stone table. "They say it's safe? That means there are genocidal maniacs waiting to collect more prisoners." The door was in reach, which was a nice change in pace, with only a little blood on her hands, she went into the sunlight, and decided to head north to Solitude.

"Carriage ride back to Helgen, get a ticket through the Frontier and build a nice farm in Cyrodiil." She kept repeating, as if it was a chant to magically summon some spirit to make her wish come true, "Stay away from the road, go across country and stay safe", chanting again, walking over a few rocks and down a rubble-like path, watching as the river flows downstream. "River, Karth river probably, follow north to sea of ghosts and that's solitude."

And North she went, treading carefully and keeping a watchful eye around her, the ragged clothes she wore mattered next to nothing against claws- or teeth- of bears or sabre cats.

Smoke, that's what could be seen across a ledge, that and a few men in blue armour. Armour they could lend, perhaps? Walking up, she overheard nothing, other than a few mutterings and an "Imperial scum." She would ask for help, she decided, and she would do so with the upmost haste.

And that's when it went horribly wrong.

* * *

She awoke with a startle, feeling something in her most private regions. She knew what it was, but pretended she didn't, as if it'll make the pain and the torture go away. The ragged clothes she wore were wearing thin, providing no protection to anything, it was a miracle she hadn't frozen to death.

"Come on, you Imperial whore" She could just about make out, but turned her hearing off promptly. That was her name for the last couple of weeks, counting the time was just one of the past times that the girl had learned, and it was enjoyable- but anything else was compared to what she as going through now.

The men were using her, the woman did nothing. A few gave a sympathetic gaze, the others ignored her. She was an Imperial, not even fighting in the war, and these men were doing these _things _to her as if everything was her fault, as if she wanted there to have been a great war, as if she had wanted the white gold concordat to have been signed, _as if she had wanted her father's sacrifice to be in vain_. But no, they did nothing to listen, they did nothing to stop, and they most certainly did nothing to stop their leader from beating her next to death.

She had caught his name, it was Istar Cairn-Breaker. She knew this name would later mean something to her, something that'll keep her going and won't stop until she completed a task, but she had no clue what it could be, how it could be, _why _it had to be.

It was fate, there was no doubt about it, the Gods had sent her on this _stupid _errand that only led to her own misfortune.

Even the sound of metal clashing metal outside the tent she was in couldn't keep her shame away.

Even when Istar pulled out of her and ran out the tent, screaming for his men to follow him, her shame wasn't away.

It wasn't even until a man, a grey haired man, came in and sat beside her did she feel some of her shame go away- as if he understood her.

And he just sat there, a few other men were standing outside the tent waiting for something to happen, and she had no idea what it could be.

But he sat, and waited, until he spoke. "You can stop crying now, Crimson." She didn't realise she was crying.

His voice was Cyrociilic, it was a fathers voice-the one you always came home to, the one she wished she would hear from her own father, a voice which brings ease to all around, a voice with authority but yet a subtle comfort that you need to boost you up.

The man also had arms big enough to wrap a whole human body around, and the gold tint on his armour pleasantly refracted the tears that had managed to end up streaming down the armour.

"We've got you some spare armour to put on," the man gently said, a gentleness she was rather fond of even after only a few sentences of hearing it, "you can keep it, and we'll take you to Solitude, you can rest up there. The Winking Skeever does a nice soup, I'm sure you can't wait for something like that."

The man picked himself and the girl up, and pulled her out the tent, almost as if the girl wanted to stay where she was-but she just couldn't move her legs.

A couple of other soldiers stood by, one holding out a peace of Imperial armour, tight fitting, but enough to cover herself, and the other one stood holding an Imperial flag, marking yet another site of Civil conflict and placing the flag as a memorial of the sort lived and bloody battle that took place. It was obvious that the Stormcloaks had fled, and they did so with little dignity- if they had any left.

The girl knew she'd become a symbol that the Stormcloaks were in the wrong, she didn't care. As much as she sympathised with the Stormcloak cause she would have thought that after her experience they are doing all the wrong things, all the bad and evil things.

The man led her to a horse, one which both of them would ride. The girl didn't care where she went, as long as it was away from the worthless camp she was in now, and for some odd reason she trusted the man with her life. She hoped that she hadn't misplaced her trust again.


	2. Chapter 2

**New chapter? But why? I'm nearly done with the next chapter so this one's up early, it's not the best but I had to do it. Don't worry, soon enough we'll get to the main plot point.**

_"A will is often the only way to get through to some people. Whether its someone's resolve to get something done that gets through to you, or if it's the piece of paper with what's left to you, it's your choice. Make the right one."_

The cold air of solitude is one of the worst things about the place- everything else seemed alright. The scenery was amazing, the animals were gracious, the sun would either shine bright or be hidden in the puffed up clouds in the sky. It actually felt like a home. If she would remember to pull on a cloak every time she went outside. Wrapping her whole body up, apart from her dark red hair.

The Winking Skeever had been a home for the girl for a month running now, she was running escort job, courier jobs, even a few pest control jobs, and she had finally saved enough money to get the carriage back to Cyrodiil. She'd miss Solitude, but it'll be good to be able to have a farm life again.

Before she set off, however, she decided to stop by the Generals office and wish him farewell, since she owed more than her life to him, and they'd quickly became fast friends, despite the huge age difference.

Castle Dour in itself was an eloquent little building, barely even a castle if you didn't include the Emperors building. It was where the barracks were housed, and were all assignments for the Legion were given- often by the two resident Legates; Rikke and Caesennius. Rikke hadn't been too friendly to the girl, unlike Adventus who acted as an older brother, the same with Tullius acting as a father.

Not noticing that Tullis was there, she walked up to Adventus and gave the customary bow that most Imperials gave to others. "Legate" She spoke quickly, proudly, and, not that anyone could miss it, with a nice smile plastered over her face.

Adventus smiled in respone, and bowed too. "Crimson, nice of you to stop by" the words flowed out from him so elegantly, if the girl was interested in men she'd have been swooned the moment she heard him speak. "The General has departed to Helgen, something about an ambush that needs preparing, he said you were going to leave today too but didn't want to join his ride?"

The girl nodded in response, "I'd hoped to have caught him before he set off, I woke up early just for it- he's going a different, much more cynical route than a carriage that I would want to go on, so I'd rather just take a civilian transport." She took a moment to breath, her newfound nature being she spoke quickly and quietly. "We're going to the same place, yes, I am not stopping. I am going straight to the border than back to where I belong, a nice farm with nice cows and nice everything! Not that Solitude isn't nice, or that you're not nice, I just don't belong here, y'know?" She smiled again, looking up at him.

"You'd best be on your way. If you ever need anything then send us a letter and I'll sort it out." He then pulled a small package from under his cloak, "In here is everything you need, travel papers signed by the General, your identity." He then pulled a second, larger, package out as well. "And, you're going to where Ayleids were prominent and not the Dwemer, so I'm giving you this so you don't suffer withdrawal. Open it up, you'll love it."

The girl opened up the small box, revealing a Dwarvern dagger, some gyros, a Centaurion core and three books, with what looked like a map inside the top one. "Thank you Adventus, I'd best be off now. Thank you, for everything." For the first time in the month she was speechless, and beyond happy. "The carriage is waiting for me, bye."

So she departed the castle, making her way through the streets of Solitude, waving goodbye to an old drunk who was in debt so much that she just had to help. The gates were held open, and then closed quickly. But not before a man in ragged clothes attempted to make a run through them.

"Catch Roggvir, don't let him run away!" The girl had heard, and she went into action immediately, pouncing upon the man and stopping him from running further.

"Thanks Crimson, you saved us there. Thought he was going to get out of jail and escape execution. That's another good thing you've done." One of the gate guards said, as he was just trailing behind the girl. A nod of approval was shared between the two, and the worn old man, Roggvir, was taken away again. The girl knew she heard the name before, but she couldn't quite figure it out.

The carriage was waiting, and she hopped aboard and gave the money-100 septims to go to the border. "As close as you can get to the Cyrodiil border please."

"Aye, Markarth, Falkreath or Riften route, Lass?" The Nordic driver asked.

"Falkreath, that's the closest to Bruma correct?" The girl asked in return, settling down on the seat, using her cloak as a blanket to wrap herself up.

"Aye, we'll set off now then, Hielti, hop in the back we're going now!" The driver shouted out, and the carriage guard jumped into the back opposite the girl. "Heard Bruma is all dried up now, perfect farm land and no more snow, like the now pine forests of Falkreath. Can't say I'm too surprised, and I know what you're gonna do Lassy." The girl could hardly contain her excitement, she was finally going a place she would fit in, finally a place she could make a good living, a place where she can study as much as she works.

Two days, that's how long the carriage journey took. She was dropped off just south of the border, in a snowy area, so she must have been at a high altitude. Still wrapped in her cloak, she soldiered south, going through the rocky outcrop and making her way to her new home.

Sadly, nothing is ever that easy. First, she saw a smallish man ride by on a horse going south, riding fast as if he was avoiding something. Then, she noticed some Stormcloaks coming her way, for what reason she had no idea. But she was scared, so she ran.

The Stormcloaks gave chase too.

She didn't get very far by the time she was stopped; she only made it a few yards. Her hands were now banded together, and she was chucked into a carriage, making sure her head was banged up against the side. Both her packages had been removed.

She heard indistinct chatter, battle cries and metal clashing, but none of it was an issue to her- instead she just kept drifting deeper into a sleep. She felt the carriage rock as two- or maybe three- bodies were thrown in with her, but she couldn't focus. She had to sleep.

She awoke, a Nordic voice called her out on it, but she payed no attention. She was arrested, she didn't know why or how or _why._ She had done nothing, and her items were gone, as was all her money. A start of a new life seemed to be ending.

The other three passengers kept bickering between themselves, at least two of them were. The other was clearly mute as he wasn't speaking. She could see the town of Helgen approaching, and she had this hope that maybe the General was there waiting for her, waiting to yell at the soldiers who'd arrested her.

The carriage was drawing to a close, steadying up as they entered the town. She saw the General, and relief washed over her. She'd get out of this whole ordeal alive, at least.

As the carriage stopped, the three other passengers disembarked, one of which decided to run off- he ended up with arrows sticking out of his back.

They started calling out the names of the men, it seemed that had a list of every known Stormcloak member. When it was her turn, she knew she would be free. They didn't have her name, so they couldn't send her to the block for anything.

"Amora Heartburn, I'm an Imperial heading back home. Can I be released now?" The girl asked, quite demandingly.

But she was stopped by a commanding Nordic voice, "Forget the list, she goes to the block!"

Sometimes it seems that you can't truly start a new life, let alone survive long enough to fulfil it.

"Why is she in the line?" Amora had heard that voice, the best voice she could ever imagine, the one she knew would save her. "Get her out of it, she doesn't deserve to die like these scum. Give the belongings back to her, and she's free to go back to Cyrodiil."

Amora didn't wait to be escorted out of it; she just ran and hugged the old General, earning odd looks from everyone around. Tullius ushered her off, and it wasn't long before her belongings were found, and handed over to her.

"Now, let's get the real show beginning, Priestess, give them their last rights."

A bellowing sound was heard just as the priestess took centre stage, almost like a roar of a beast. Mutters about it were heard between everyone. It didn't stop the priestess, though, and she continued on with the rights.

However, she was stopped by a Stormcloak interrupting and spitting out "Shut up already and let's get this over with." Another roar could be heard as his head was placed on the chop.

"My ancestors are smiling at me, Imperials, can you say the same?" He asked, it was rhetorical, and we all knew that our ancestors were glad we were putting down the cause for so much bloodshed.

His head came clean off, and then the world seemed to erupt in flames.

"DRAGON!" was being shouted all around her, and as Amora looked up at the watchtower she couldn't believe her eyes. She was stuck to her spot, and the Dragon looked at her and, in a voice that she couldn't understand-but somehow could, she heard it. "Welcome to the war, Dovahkiin."

**So, now we know her real name. Crimson is just a nickname, if you didn't figure that out, and it's because of her hair colour, if you didn't get that either. Anyway, until next time!**


	3. Chapter 3

_"I found that being awake is often much better than the dreams that I am plagued with."_

She couldn't believe it, and she'd been there, she'd done it, and she's been tasked with a thousand and one different things- and she wanted none of it.

The Greybeards wanted her to get a horn from an old burial site. It was something to do with the Dragonborn's honour to do so, something that everyone since Tiber Septim did. She accepted it, and had made her way to Whiterun to get a Carriage- something that started this whole mess.

She looked on the Brightside, though; maybe her task as Dragonborn would lead her to a Dwemer ruin.

She'd grown stronger when she absorbed the first Dragon's soul- you wouldn't believe it. She could wield any weapon, but still preferred a simple bow and arrow and her gifted Dagger, and she could wear any armour, but still preferred her unique fur armour, with added dragon scaled protection from her first kill.

She looked unique, and that was what she was. No one else knew how to make armour from Dragon bones or scales, and somehow she had picked up on it the first time she got to the forge. The plan was to sell the items, but plans change. Now she was proud of how she looked, and she was proud that she'd be doing an honourable thing, instead of a farmer's life.

But it was still the wrong life for her.

Lydia-her Housecarl, had joined her on the trip up the High Hrothgar, but she seemed disinterested at everything. So, at Whiterun, she was dismissed by Amora and she hired the carriage to Solitude, in the hopes that it'll be quicker than to Morthal; it was certainly cheaper.

"Crimson!" She heard, and she knew it was one of the guards- they all seemed to have the same voice. "You're back? And Just in time to see Roggvir! Make sure to wait for me in the inn, you've got a story to tell us all!"

Amora smiled in return, and she actually warmed up to the idea of being called Crimson now, it was better than being called Dragonborn all the time.

The gates opened as usual, something she would have guessed would be tedious in the way it's done, always done so equally, and what was met was surprising- a gathering, a nice sight- for a not so nice reason. Right before the flock of people was a headsman with a man in rags knelt before him. It was an obvious execution, but no matter how much she hated the Stormcloaks- since he was _technically _one, she never wanted to watch an execution. So, she walked on through to the Winking Skeever, where she'd hoped to rent a room. Unfortunately, everyone was out watching the execution so there was no one to book her room.

"Oh well, time for a stroll around the largest city of Skyrim, there's no way that I can get lost." Amora spoke to herself, and hurried along, walking past dozens of buildings.

Amora found herself sitting in a beautiful garden, one right before the palace; presumably it was the palace's gardens. With high trimmed hedges and fountains galore, it'd be an odd sight if it didn't belong to the Jarl.

The one thing that caught Amora's eyes, however, was a small red plant, one which she thought she'd never see again. A single rose, crimson rose, thorns on the stem pointing out elegantly.

"You know, there's a bench for you to sit at right behind you." A voice stated, quite comically, from behind her.

"I like the rose." Amora replied, not turning to face the feminine voice.

The voice just giggled slightly, "I can tell you're an Imperial, not only from your voice, but your love of a simple rose."

Amora turned to face the woman, "Just because I li-" She coughed, lost for words. Before her now stood the most beautiful woman she had ever seen. She had a glossy makeup, blushing cheeks, fair red hair, and idyllic blue eyes. The woman wore simple blue clothes, with a blue cloak wrapped up around her shoulders.

The woman's cheeks turned a deeper red, if it was possible. "You know it's rude to not finish your sentences."

"Yeah, sorry" Amora muttered, turning her gaze downcast to avoid her embarrassment. "I just like roses."

"They match your hair, just a bit brighter. The stem, that's your eyes." The woman smiled a bright white smile. "They say that your favourite flower reflects something about you. My flower? Dragon tongue. I dream that one day I'll be able to fly like a dragon, and escape from everything I now know and live in peace." The woman turned around, and started walking away without anything else being said.

"Why are you walking away?" The simple question, a thousand different answers.

"I've got a job to do, that and it's the first time I've actually told anyone that, and it feels too odd. If it's a farewell you're looking for, this is it."

And she was gone, lost behind the hedges of huge garden. Amora couldn't help but feel the loss she felt, and the disappointment of something she couldn't place. She picked herself up from the ground, and began to walk back to the Inn, noticing, as she walked on down the gravel path, that statues of Dragons lay all around the palace grounds.

"Hail, adventurer, the court is in session and they're looking for a capable warrior. You seem the part, there's gold in it." The typical guard's voice spoke out, waking Amora from her walk. "Not you lassy; this fella here." The guard nodded his head in the direction of some blond haired man, with a fine tunic on, not exactly warriors garbs.

But Amora didn't listen, for some compelling reason she turned on her heal and walked back to the Palace, with one goal in mind, the thought of showing that females can do a job just as good as men can.

The palace itself wasn't much of a sight, the entrance anyway, with a small table and wooden benches, not elegant in anyway. The stairs up were only slightly eye catching, as they parted in a way which was odd, seeing as there were two sets upwards. The flooring was decent, with marble décor.

But the throne, that's the catcher. The throne was some fantastic wood, the throne was the seat of the Jarl. The one that everyone said whose beauty is unmatched, the one whose name even states that, and that woman, now clad in a red raiment, was the woman who she met in the garden, and for whatever reason that enticed her further.

She was busy speaking to some man; she wasn't paying attention- her mind solely focused on the beauty before her, admiring what walked away too quickly for her liking.

The beauty turned her head and looked toward her, and gave a small smile and waved her over. "I take it you're here for the clearance job?" Amora simply nodded, not even caring what it was, a man behind her scoffed; clearly showing his distaste for allowing a woman to work. "Speak to Falk Firebeard; he'll give you the details."

Amora walked towards the steward, not paying attention to much else. "So, you're going to clear out Wolf Skull cave? Good luck, with what I've heard you've got more balls than anyone else here. Figuratively, of course."

She actually listened to that, and she wasn't happy with what she heard.

"I thought it was a clearance job? Like; removing some old furniture from a house?" She asked, worry starting to show.

"You could call it that, but instead of old furniture it's- most likely, though don't get me wrong- witches, and instead of a house it's a cave. Don't back out now, we need someone for this, and there's more jobs your way if you do."

Amora simply nodded, not wanting to go further into detail. It seemed that now she was a dungeon delver as well as an adventurer. But she wasn't going to let her Jarl down.


	4. Chapter 4

_"Just think of a life without purpose, you can't can you? That's because there's no such thing."_

If you were to name any cave that relates to the past in some way at least make it reasonable. Wolf- the wolf queen, you'd guess, was somehow connected to this place, Skull-probably binded to the place by said skull, and Cave, don't make me explain that one. That was what Amora had picked up by the necromancers patrolling the dreary cavern. It was easy experience, though, she quickly killed each and every one of them, earning few screams of pain and a more…relaxed…environment.

There were a few skeletons and Draugr, both of which she had encountered before back at Bleak Falls Barrow, and a few delves to catch enough coin to actually fund her 'World saving role.' The greybeards certainly thought she either had money, or, as they'd been up in the castle of theirs for so long they may have thought the world went to peace- as that's what a world without money would be, she'd guess anyway.

Back on the task at hand, she was finally approaching where Potema-the Wolf Queen herself, was being summoned by some idiotic necromancers who actually thought they could tame such a wild beast. The constant chant of the Necro-mother was growing ever more irritating, as were the taunts of the Wolf Queen herself as she was being brought closer and closer into the realm, and Amora just couldn't wait to kill the rest of the mages.

The taunting was increasing, and the ghastly voice was becoming louder as the summoning ritual was coming to its end, and as such Amora started running up the tower; up the spiral staircase which the ancient Nords seemed to love, and notched an arrow just in time for the ritual to end.

The Necro-mother lay dead, head on the summoning table with an arrow piercing right through her head, the arrow head facing straight up and the shaft buried inside her head, with very little blood spilling out.

Knowing her job was done now, Amora simply walked off, lowering a bridge to where she presumed the exit was, looting a few of the chests that lay around, and stepped into the fresh-snowy- air. However, she couldn't help but feel as if some spiritual being rushed past her into the world, heading straight to Solitude.

* * *

Arriving at the Blue Palace gardens was a pleasure in Amora's own world, the rose still lay in its special bedding, but what caught her eye was the dragon tongue facing the complete opposite side of it, like the parallel lines you'd learn about in a school, indefinitely staring but can never meet.

Again, she sat down on the grass before the rose, her back facing the Dragon's tongue. She reached out with her hand and gently ran her fingers over the petal, as delicately as she could. A thought crossed her mind, and she couldn't help but say it aloud; "Why only one Rose."

She picked herself up after a final caress and walked inside the palace. She went to the Steward first, since he's the one who officially gave her the job to begin with. "Ah, you're back" he began, clearly showing some surprise to which Amora simply ignored "I thank you for taking care of the problem, I presume you've done so anyway, what exactly was going on in that cave?"

"There were people trying to summon the Wolf Queen back to life, I stopped them but I'm not sure she is fully gone, since that's slightly impossible." She replied, staring blankly as she spoke.

"I see…" the steward took some time to think things through, "Are you feeling all right?"

Amora looked shocked at the question, and she caught the Jarl looking in her direction, before looking away quickly, she could almost notice a small red tint on her cheek. "I'm fine, just a little exhausted."

"Then you better get some rest, young lady. Here's your reward" The steward handed her a coin purse, she didn't actually care how much was in it, she just pocketed it.

"Thank you, this will help me nicely." Amora spoke with a slight hint of mystery, one which the Steward failed to pick up on. The Jarl, however, picked it up, and beckoned Amora over to her throne.

"I have a personal favour to ask." The Jarl spoke, waiting to see the adventurer's response.

Amora just took it in her stride, but for some reason she felt butterflies erupt in her stomach. "Of course, my Jarl, what do you need?"

The Jarl looked a little scared of something, scared that Amora may judge her for what she'll ask; scared that Amora will run off to the Thalmor and she'll be thrown in jail, but not scared for her throne. "It's about my Husband-" She started, she noticed Amora's nose wrinkle at the name, almost in disgust, and Elisif had to hide her own disgust as well. But she was still a loyal wife, no matter who Torygg was, and she wanted the world to know her loyalty"- I've offered gifts to all the gods to give him a blessing, all the gods except one." Amora gestured for her to carry on, although she guessed where this was going. "I want you to place his War horn at the shrine to Talos north of Whiterun, it's the one Torygg used to go to. It's just this one thing, and I am begging you do it, please?"

"I'll happily do so, I'll get right on that but I've got some business to deal with beforehand." Amora was secretly upset that the Jarl was not over her husband, for whatever reason she didn't know, but she didn't dare let it show. "I'll leave tomorrow morning, and the Horn will be placed soon, I promise." Amora spoke, quickly remembering her duty as the Dragonborn. "I bid you all a good day, and I will hopefully see you again soon." And she left, heading to the inn to lay her head down for the night.

**Please Review, only if you wish though, and thanks for all the recent follows, it means so much to know that this is getting attention!**


	5. Chapter 5

_"When you learn who someone Is you can ever so easily learn when they are lying, if you can't tell when someone is lying, you either don't know them, or you don't want to know them."_

After an extensive journey, several dead dragons, even more dead undead and a lot of money cost traveling, Amora returned to Solitude- A month and several days after her last visit. She missed several things about the city, the inn had a bard who could actually sing, the beds were nice, the palace garden was her favourite place and she, still for no reason known to her, felt a strange connection to the Jarl, even though they'd hardly talked at all.

Still, even though she was meant to visit some elf in the inn, it was early in the morning and she'd slept on the carriage from Whiterun to Solitude. She went straight to the palace gardens, not caring about anything else for the moment. The rose- her rose- still stood there, as distinct as ever. A maid was working around it, plucking out other plants and weeds, but avoiding the rose.

Amora decided to sit at the bench for a while, just admiring the garden before doing jobs she'd no doubt be asked to do.

Unfortunately, when dragons attack, plans often go out the window. The dragon itself landed on the Bards College, not far from the palace but still far enough to be an annoying run. Drawing out her longbow, Amora lined up a shot and fired, not caring where it hit as long as it hit. Notching another arrow, she fired again, and the first one hit just as the second one flew out.

The dragon roared out in pain, shouting in the dragon language- something Amora wished she didn't have to learn. She paid no attention to what it was saying- screaming- and just kept a barrage of arrows firing. Some of the guards, whom weren't running scared, stood their ground and fired arrows as well, resulting in the Dragon having armour of arrows sticking out.

The Dragon was clearly weakened, and actually gave up fighting. It jumped from its perch on top the college and landed, almost accepting defeat- no, it was accepting defeat.

The guards all backed off, leaving Amora to run with a dagger raised ready to strike. However, the Dragon spoke instead. "Young one," it began to speak, "You and your kind have bested me. A test, if you will, to test your strength. I needn't have bothered, I heard tales of you from the old one, and the ones who wish to remain away from you."

Amora was dumbfounded; there was no better word for it "You tested me, for what reason?"

The dragon chuckled, what Amora thought was a chuckle anyway. "I don't wish to die; I only just came to life again. It's a joy, and much better than The Fathers realm. I wish to join your side, fight with the honour of the Dragonborn. I can teach you our language, and in return you let me live free. I don't wish this world to die, either, so your journey against the World eater will require my assistance."

Again, Amora was dumbfounded. "It'll be an honour to have a dragon at my side. But I must know your name."

The dragon spoke with force this time, "Lurienaxx, it is a name that makes no sense to anyone but me. Speak my name, and I will come."

The Dragon then took off in flight; leaving behind a dozen confused guards whom all understood that this adventurer was the Dragonborn, but nothing else. Immediately, shouting occurred, all saying praises of "Praise the hero Dragonborn!" or "The beast has flown!"

Amora took it in her stride, and walking through a path of broken arrows she went straight back to the Blue Palace, wondering if her Rose has been plucked.

The maid was gone, but her rose was still there. But the bed around it lay empty; none of the other plants were there. So, as usual, she knelt before it. This time, however, she removed a journal from her knapsack, and started to draw the rose. Amora wasn't a good artist, but she wanted to preserve this rose forever in a journal of her favourite things- along with dozens of locations of Dwarven ruins, remains or just general places of interest.

"There's talk about the Dragonborn staying at the inn, claiming the praise of every citizen in Solitude. You're here drawing a rose instead of celebrating with a hero, why?" The voice of the Jarl asked her, but it was somehow off.

"I am staying at the inn, but I'm not claiming praise. Is there an impersonator?" Amora quizzed, feeling rage building up as someone is clearly impersonating her.

Instead, the Jarl just laughed at her, not a good laugh- a menacing one. "You're saying you're the Dragonborn, you've actually made my day with that. You're a woman like me, but you're an imperial- the Dragonborn would be a nord, a male nord."

Amora hang her head low, the Jarls words hurt her.

"You know, I actually think it's pretty rude- not to mention blasphemous- to claim you're the Dragonborn. I won't be rewarding you for placing my Husbands horn at the shrine. And count your blessing I'm allowing you to stay here. Now, if you don't mind, you need to leave."

Instead, something caught her eye. A spirit, of sorts, and it was leading her inside the palace. With her heart burning, she ran inside the palace, ignoring looks of contempt from everyone, running through the palace- following a spectral figure.

The door was locked- with spiders' webs hanging in every direction, but no matter how strong a lock, a shout will break it. With the ever so loud "Fus Ro Dah!" she burst open the door and ran through there, wondering what the cause for a spectre was.

* * *

The Wolf Queen, of course, had become the Jarl. That's the explanation which could be deduced from what she was hearing. The Jarl herself, the fair Elisif, had been captured and her soul was searching for help, help that Amora would more than gladly give. The Wolf Queen as also perusing them, but she was undefeatable. Whatever needed to be done had to be done to her remains, or so she'd had thought.

Amora had been following the Spectre of Elisif for what felt like an age, she always stood by and watched while she fought off whoever was attacking her- whether it was vampires or another form of undead.

All it took was a failed trap to make their lives so much easier. What seemed to be a death arena, with Draugr spewing out and attacking at will, had caused the gate behind them to close, leaving the Wolf Queen behind and the true Queen and Amora on the other side of the wall, where her remains lay.

However, when all the Draugr died, and the gates opened, the false Queen ran in and attacked. Not fast enough, though, since Amora threw her skull on the ground, smashing a circlet on top. The Jarls body collapsed.

"By the divines it worked!" Amora yelled out, but the spectre of Elisif just faded away. "Shit, my Jarl are you there?"

She was met with silence, but the body of the Jarl started moving, just slightly, signifying that she was back. "My Jarl, are you okay?"

The Jarl smiled a pearly white smile that could mean a thousand things. "I know you're the Dragonborn" She got out, then took another breath, "And I hope you know that I'd never" She then took another breath, as if her life depended on it, "I'd never insult you in any way."

Amora had the biggest smile on her face, she picked her Jarl up, and she cradled her head against her breast and carried her bridal style up to the higher levels of the city.

The upper city was normal, nothing beyond strange. A few guards noticed the pair, and ran to help, but both women shooed them off.

Making it back to the palace was a breeze. The court mage, who had no clue what was occurring, took it in stride and took care of the Jarl, leading Amora to her quarters.

"Trust me, she'll be safe now, we knew something was off a few weeks ago, but we couldn't do anything since she's the Jarl. Whatever you've done let us hope it works. You can leave, but return tomorrow, we'll have sorted a reward for you." The court mage spoke, but her words were met with deaf ears, as Amora looked on at the now sleeping Jarl, whom had somehow got a rose pinned to her tunic.


	6. Chapter 6

_"Don't make enemies who can kill you in one strike. Make enemies who you know are too scared to do so."_

She was late, as you'd probably expect someone to be if they didn't want to go in the first place. Delphine's plan was to infiltrate the Thalmor embassy and steal any documents that may trace back to the Dragons returning to life- as farfetched as Amora thought the idea was she had no other ideas, so she had to run with it.

The snow covered mountain was a perfect place to hold a fortress-not an embassy; with a winding road that takes hours to climb even in a carriage. Amora hadn't noticed any other visitors coming up the path, thus sensing a plausible trap-much to the dismay of the driver who was a Blade sent by Delphine.

As the carriage approached the Thalmor stronghold Amora noticed a redguard man, clearly too drunk for his own good, sitting on top a small fence. "Ah, a fellow late comer" was all Amora had to hear, slurred and clearly riddled with Drunk mannerisms, she turned a blind eye-much like a proper noble would- and showed her invitation to a Thalmor guard, who silently nodded and allowed her access.

She was not expecting such a breathtaking entry- a chandelier, indoor plants, tiled flooring in some coat of arms, marble statues of elves in stunning poses, golden beams and a fountain of brown liquid that she'd never seen before in her life.

"Ah" a voice came, the voice of what seemed like an elderly Altmer woman "Welcome to my party, newcomer" So this was Elenwen, the cynical bitch that everyone seemed to hate. "Would you care to tell me your story, I've not seen you here before."

Malbourne- a Bosmer spy- attempted to interrupt, but was scalded by both the females, something that the Altmer seemed to enjoy too much, turning her attention back to the crimson haired girl with a smile plastered on her face.

"I'm a Dwemer fanatic, searching everywhere for anything that could reveal their mysteries. It's a labour of love, and I wish I had more time to do it. Hence why I'm here, a couple of nobles here would die for a chance to send an expedition in an unexplored ruin- who knows what you'll find."

"Yes, that's all well and good, but how'd you get an invitation?" The Ambasador asked, scepticism laced all over her voice- the bitch seemed to be on the verge of being released.

"One of your Justicars seemed to take a liking to me, but to my own disappointment they weren't a girl" at the slight furrow of the ambassadors brow, and a slight blush appearing at the tips of her ears, Amora smiled pleasantly in response, "I asked how to get noticed, and despite his obvious flirts, he suggested I come here- he even gave me the invitation."

"I see, well then madame…"

"Amora Heartburn" She filled in for her,

"Yes, well I'll be seeing you around. Make sure you take a sip of our Summerset Isle Wine, it's probably the best thing you'll ever taste." The Ambasador turned on her heel and left, leaving Amora to glance across the room to see who else was there. Obviously, the drunk had obviously got in but somehow avoided talking with the Ambasador, there was a distinct trader, of spice one would presume, and the Jarl of Solitude.

Amora had to do a double take, not caring about the other guests, the one person she had saved from her own demise had turned up to a party. Tullius stood beside her, whispering something unreadable into her ear, and she smiled at the pair when they noticed her, well Tullius noticed her. The Jarl was paying attention to one of the Statuettes.

After a quick run-through of the plan with Malbourne, Amora walked towards her Jarl and the General, they were clearly still in shock from her being at the party.

"Before you say anything, I know I'm not meant to be here, but it's for the Blades benefit."

"And what do the Blades want from the Thalmor, except revenge?" Tullius asked, the Jarl was still looking in a different direction, but had a slight red tint on her face.

"Honestly, I have no clue. I'm only here because the one person who knows something about the Dragon attacks sent me here. I want this whole thing over with so I can focus on the Dwemer, or head back home to a farm."

It was at this point that the Jarl finally spoke up, voicing her opinion- something she not often did. "I suppose it's a good idea, but the Thalmor will know nothing- except maybe where a few Blades may reside. If anything, you should interrogate the Dragon that you tamed."

It was at this point that Amora slammed her fist into her head, earning a laugh from Tullius and a small giggle from the Jarl, while others just either watched in faint amusement or didn't focus at all.

"Now that I think of that, I realise I'm an idiot. I'm here, though, so I'll see what I can find. I need a distraction, though, so will you help?"

The General smiled in response, "What do you take us for? We'd love to help; I know just the way to distract everyone too."

He then kicked the Jarl in the knee, causing her to buckle over in pain. Amora looked in disbelief, before picking her up in her arms- yet again, and carrying her to a guard- who led them to the kitchen to have her mended up.

"You know," The Jarl murmured, "I'm really getting used to being carried like this."

* * *

After risking her neck in the embassy she only had three books to show for it. Malbourne was subsequently captured, and then released-much to his dispute. A thief who attempted a heist ran off, probably down to Riften. The Jarl was, thankfully, escorted out of the Embassy by a few guards and Tullius before the sounds of war started.

Delphine was pleased with the result, and she set off to Riften in search of a bloke named Esbern. Amora, however, decided to stay in Solitude, since the Dragon attacks had been most frequent in the appropriately named Dragon Bridge. Delphine stated she'd meet up with Amora in the coming month at the inn.

Amora didn't mind only going out to slay Dragons- it wasn't Dwemer digging, but it was still a fun thing to do. She'd been flying all around Haafingar with Lurienaxx, attacking Dragons who dared go near a settlement, and even slaying a few bandit camps.

On her daily visit to the Palace Gardens, which was now a resting spot for Lurienaxx, she was summoned inside the palace by a guard- something she hadn't done for a while. Upon entering, she was met with applause- which was an odd thing to begin with- from all but one of the court members, praises of the Dragonborn sang throughout the hall, and even the General and Legates were joining in on the praises.

"What's with the celebration?" Amora asked no one in particular, surprised that her words could even be heard.

"They finally decided to make you a Thane" Sybille, the court mage, told her. "All your work for the hold has not gone un-noticed, and you're a very welcome addition to our court."

Amora was speechless at this point, only basking in the praises, and the Jarl- who was sitting on her throne- smiled at her, for once not caring what people saw, and even when her blush appeared she didn't look away, and when Amora finally looked away from her face, she could see the rose still pinned to her garment. This time, however, it was much closer to her heart.


	7. Chapter 7

_"If the odds are against you then just forget about it and take your winnings, if you have no winnings then just be grateful you get to live another day."_

As the newest Thane of Haafingar the first thing Amora did was buy a house- a house which she found out she could have bought months earlier, and one which was-thankfully-still furnished from the old owner. Proudspire Manor was the name, and Amora was clearly proud of owning such a building. Upon first arriving in it, she was surprised to find a woman already there, cooking up some stew. Introductions dictated that she was Jordis, her new Housecarl- and she was already far better than Lydia.

Additionally, she'd been allowed to enter the court sessions, which turned out to be much better than expected since she kept joking with the Jarl, who also seemed to be more open and much braver than before.

After the court sessions end, the other two Thanes leave the palace and head to their own residences; Bryling- who Amora got along with quite well, and who also had ended quite a few of the homelessness issues the city faced, and Erikur; who was a despicable and cared for nothing but his own gain.

That left only the Housecarl, Steward, Court mage and the Jarl. Of course, more often than not, the Jarl also leaves and heads to the Gardens, and Amora would follow suit.

Sitting in their usual spot- the bench which stood in between the Rose and the Dragon Tongue- Amora and the Jarl shared pleasant conversation.

"I've been thinking about you name." The Jarl broke the silence; usually it was the opposite with Amora having to break it. "Heartburn…It's a powerful name, and was a powerful family."

Amora simply nodded her head, she knew her family's history, not much but she knew the vague and important parts. "Mother led a rebellion and got crushed; we were exiled to a farm where we loved to live."

"Your mother was also Dragonborn, as well. Your whole family, all Dragon Blood, but none of them knew, except the first few- back in the Dragon Wars. But, you had the most right to the throne, the Dragon Throne of the Emperor, and you still have the right."

Again, Amora nodded. "I don't want the throne, anyway, almost the same as you, only I have a choice."

The Jarl bowed her head. "When the Emperor dies, you're the only one who is able to take the Throne, not only since you're Dragonborn, but since you're the only one the Gods feel worthy."

Amora scoffed, "like the Thalmor would allow Heartburn back into the Elder Council. We've thought them and lost." She took a breath, and under it muttered "plus they're all bigots who only care for male-female relations." Again, another breath, only louder she muttered "They killed my father, he was the first to oppose it. Then, they killed my brother- who I hated until I realised I lost him." Another breath, then she all but shouted out "The Thalmor take everything we love and take it away- whether it's gods or our family, our rights or our own sanity. They take it and we can't get it back…that's all that cowards can do."

The Jarl heard her, and silently pulled her into a hug, with her arms draped around her neck. Amora let her tears fall, splashing onto the Jarl's rose.

"My parents wanted me to be a warrior." The Jarl said, still with Amora tearing up. "I did too, I want to explore the lands- I don't want to be a Jarl, but now I do. You've made me realise it's an honour, and I will honour my family by staying here. I don't care for my departed husband; he got a tonne of money that funded the new walls of Solitude from my wedding. He never loved me, but yet I honour him because I realise that some people aren't lucky enough to get married. I want to be married again, to someone who will love me and birth me a beautiful child, I want a husband who will do the city good, and do Skyrim well if the war ends."

The Jarl sighed a breath of relief "I want to be a Jarl for the good of the people- the people that you've helped so much the last few months. I don't want anything going to waste, and I want people to know that. You've helped me in so many ways. I thank you, so much."

Amora smiled, despite the tears, letting the Jarls hand wipe away any wet streaks. Content, the two sat the same for what felt like an eternity and a few seconds at the same time, before a woman in some metal armour and a man in a grey robe stood before them.

"Amora, this is Esbern. Esbern, Amora. Now that you've been introduced, we need to go to Sky Haven Temple, we've got the clues on how to stop the World Eater, and we need you."

Amora reluctantly got up from her spot, and followed the pair wordlessly; they were deep in their own talks. Sparing a backward glance, she waved a goodbye to the Jarl, before smiling and blowing a kiss, one which the Jarl was all too happy to accept.

Turning back around, she interrupted the pair's conversation, "I need to change out of these fine clothes, and I'll be out with my armour and Housecarl in a minute."

And, a woman of her word, she emerged in her Dragon-style Fur armour, with an ebony circlet now on her head, and a matching necklace, and a cloak wrapped around her shoulders. A Dragonbone-carved bow was slung over her shoulder, and a new Dragonbone Dagger was strapped to her thigh, and her Dwarven dagger on her hip, Jordis directly behind her in less-revealing-more-protective Dragon armour.

To her surprise, the Jarl was also waiting outside with the two older Blades. For some reason, she felt like this was the last time she'd be able to see her Jarl, and she must have felt it too. They embraced in a farewell hug before they departed.

Amora's heart soared, and she knew for certain that she was in love with her Jarl. But it dampened when she realised their love could never be- politicians will be politicians, bigots will be bigots, innocent and straight Jarls would be innocent and straight.

Delphine, however, seemed to pick up on it. "Don't bet on it kid, given who you are I'd bet in a few months you'll be wed to her anyway." Amora smiled gratefully in response, but knew that these words didn't mean anything.


	8. Chapter 8

**Got writers block, so instead of falling through with the original idea that I was going to do, I decided to create a new ship that I've never seen before. Introducing the Lydia/Jordis!**

Upon arriving at Sky Haven Temple, the four adventurers set to work clearing out the Forsworn and setting a base of operations for the Blades. Alduins wall dictated that a word of power- a shout or Thu'um- was used to destroy Alduin the first time, so, with little reluctance, Amora and Jordis set off to the Throat of the world, stopping by Whiterun for supplies.

Arriving at Whiterun is always a pleasure of sorts, basking in the open sunlight on the plains and watching bustling traders making deals with the Khajiit who make their home outside the walls of the city, shouts of the best prices or unique goods were ringing, and you could even hear some from inside the city walls. The trade centre of Skyrim did not disappoint.

"We're going to buy some better tents and bedrolls, maybe a chunk of firewood and a few horses, we can't always ride on Lurienaxx, and horses are much more welcome outside cities." Amora stated to her Housecarl, who was paying avid attention to the area around her. "We also need to step by my house here and pick up some Dragon bones and maybe my Housecarl if she feels like being respectful to me."

Jordis peaked interest at that, "You didn't tell me you had another Housecarl?" she quizzed, feigning ignorance towards jealousy.

"She's a bitch, not listening to me and always going head strong into battle, no respect for me whatsoever. She even says that Skyrim belongs to the Nords, I think she forgot about the Snow Elves here before them."

"Well, it seems she needs to be taught a lesson by me, the best Housecarl to our lady Amora!" Jordis emphasised, putting a smile on both the women's faces. Chuckling along the way, Amora went straight to the merchant district to pick up the few things she needed, whereas Jordis was let straight into Breezehome.

"Hello, Lydia?" She called, remembering the name of the other Housecarl. "I'm Jordis, your Thane and I need to pick up a few supplies." With no movement heard or any response said, Jordis was led to believe that no one was home.

Walking up to a nearby sack and finding it empty she knew that the supplies she needed would be upstairs. The house was tiny, so it was easy to find a way around. To the left on the overhang would be the Housecarl's room, leaving the door shut she went to the room with the larger door and delved inside, noticing a chest which had to be the supplies.

Pulling out a separate container for weapons there was a pleasant supply of meat and salt, preserved well and ready to be cooked at any time. Further inspection of the chest revealed some left over smithing supplies in a different compartment, which would prove useful on the road. Deciding that they'll only need a few odds and ends, Jordis took a few provisions of meat for their journey, a couple of dragon bones and scales, leather, coal and a whetstone, leaving the rest of the items in the chest.

Picking up two knapsacks, since one wouldn't be enough to hold everything- that and it was also unhygienic to put food with other items; Jordis carefully placed every item into the respective bag.

Upon feeling a blade to her neck, however, Jordis ceased what she was doing and gulped in fear, not knowing what to do.

"Lydia, if that's you, please don't kill me." Jordis pleaded, hoping it was in fact Amora's other Housecarl.

"You know my name- that surprises me. What are you doing here? Wait, don't answer, I know already. You're thieving from the Dragonborn's house, which is not a good idea." Lydia responded, smirking behind Jordis' back.

"Please, Lydia, I'm Amora's other Housecarl, from Solitude, we're going to find an elder scroll and we were going to ask you for help, as well, I'm just picking up supplies, please don't kill me!" Jordis squealed out, covering her face with her hands.

Dropping her sword down, Lydia chuckled at the sight of a cowering Housecarl. "I was trained to be fearless, to do my duty and protect my Thane. It seems that you, however, are a coward and won't face your death with honour."

A sudden snarl from Jordis caused a change in pace, gone was the cowering and fear, instead in its place stood anger and confidence, pushing Lydia down to the ground and swiping her sword away from reach, Jordis straddled her chest before laying a single punch to the other Housecarls face, knocking her out cold. "Oh divines." Jordis gasped, before collapsing herself on top of Lydia.

* * *

Lydia was the first to wake, noticing a passed out woman with Dragonbone armour sprawled over her. Confusion marked her face, they were still clothed so they didn't have sex- not that she'd mind if looks were to go by, and this woman was definitely attractive. Feeling a pain in her head, and upon investigating it with a roaming hand, she realise she had a liquid falling from her temple. Not wanting to see what this liquid was, she pulled her hand away and wiped it on the floor, before attempting-and failing- to remove the woman from her grasp.

At this, Jordis stirred and carefully opened her eyes, which widened even more noticing what was going on. Carefully standing up, regaining her balance, and lifting a dumbfounded Lydia up from the floor, she cut a cloth and wiped away Lydia's injury.

"I'm sorry," She began, "I just get wound up easily, calling me a coward is an easy way to do that." Jordis attempted a joke, but Lydia still looked confused, "I kind of let out all my energy in the punch, hence why I collapsed, I'm sorry again."

"You punched me? And I was knocked out?" Lydia asked, an odd tone laced her voice.

"Well, yeah, but I didn't mean to, I just think we got off on the wrong foot, why not start over?" She attempted, but it looked like Lydia was remembering what happened.

"You're the first person in years to have knocked me out, I would be mad if you weren't so attractive. It's not every day that you meet a strong woman with good looks as well." Lydia said, smiling at her own flirting.

"Oh, thank you." Jordis smiled in response, clearly not used to this type of attention from women. "You know, Amora told me you were-if you mind the phrase- a bitch, you really aren't that bad."

Lydia smiled further, before tucking a loose hair of Jordis' behind her ear, "Well honey, you haven't known me that long."

Before Jordis could respond- or even cease smiling, she felt an intense feeling on her lips, and relished in the feel. Lydia was kissing her, and she was loving it. Nothing had ever felt like this, and so she returned it. Pushing her mouth closer to Lydia's, arms wrapped up around her neck, she had been with men before but it was nothing like this- nothing so intimate or breath-taking.

"Lydia, Jordis, I'm back. Get ready to leave, as well; I don't want to stay here any longer. Half an hour and I've already heard enough about the 'best cuts in all of Skyrim.'"

Upon hearing their Thane return, both women separated and smiled at one another, Lydia with a sultry whereas Jordis was as giddy as a rabbit.

"You're going to be coming with us, Lydia." Jordis said, before giving a quick kiss to Lydia and running down the stairs with Knapsacks in hand.

Lydia could hear the conversation downstairs, and even though she didn't like the idea, she did like Jordis.


	9. Chapter 9

_If you can recall, there's a thousand and one ways to die in the wilds, but only one way to survive. Be as strong as you can be, be stronger for those around you, and be the strongest for anyone lucky enough to call you a friend, and you're invincible. _

Yet another journey up to High Hrothgar is just what Amora wanted, seven thousand steps-even for a horse it's difficult for both them and the rider. They say it's a day's hike to get up the mountain, those people didn't have horses- but it still requires a break half way up. Exhausting your horse would lead to inevitable failure along the road.

Stopping at a way shrine Amora hopped of her horse and unhooked the knapsack and tent roll, setting up the beginnings of their makeshift camp. Lydia and Jordis were just approaching, stealing kisses when they thought Amora wasn't looking.

"You two lovebirds get off your horse and help me set up the camp." Amora called out, bringing the two out of their lip-lock. "We've got to rest the night for now, I'll take first watch so you two can sleep, then you argue amongst yourselves who goes second and third. I want both of you awake, so I don't have to drag you to the temple."

Jordis was the first to move, rushing to get a tent set up and to make the fire- Lydia however just stood and watched.

"You realise that you have to help as well?" Amora asked her, whilst attempting to get a wooden strut for the tent in place.

"Mhm, I just choose to watch. I'm not really one for this sort of thing." Lydia responded, averting her eyes from Jordis for just a second.

"I'm not asking you to help; I'm fine with this sort of thing. Jordis, however, she's far too kind and will do everything. Help her, not me."

Lydia looked placidly at her Thane, giving a snort of annoyance before walking over to her love and easing the burden of the tent between the two of them. Amora smiled at the look on the two woman's faces, and the smile Lydia was showing was enough to know that she was thankful for the words Amora gave her.

After setting the two tents up Amora started preparing a small venison stew from what food was stored, while Jordis walked into a small wooded area to collect a few smaller bits of firewood.

"Thank you for earlier, my Thane. I'm not really good at helping people, much less those I think I'll disappoint."

Amora looked up to see Lydia kneeling before her, cutting up a few herbs. "It's no problem, anything to get you woman happy." She smiled at Lydia, and for once it seemed that Lydia smiled back.

"You have a forbidden love, one you can't have. One that you desire and crave but is so far out of reach that it hurts- but you don't let it show. You embrace the love of others- of Jordis and I- and you don't stop what we're doing. You really are one of a kind."

Amora, still staring at the once annoyance of a Housecarl, felt herself getting pulled towards her, with wet streaks pouring down her eyes.

"Jordis told me about you and the true High Queen. She also made me change my stance on the war, but that's not the point. The point is that you will win her over; you're the Dragonborn- the saviour of Nirn, blessed by the gods themselves and with such a heart that it's impossible not to feel something for you. If she doesn't care for you, then you don't want her anyway." Lydia cradled her Thanes head in her neck, brushing her hair in an attempt to comfort her.

Jordis soon returned, and upon seeing no work done towards the fire, she promptly set to work, allowing warmth to envelope the three women.

Amora soon removed herself from Lydia's grasp, and allowed Jordis to take her place. Watching with intense interest at the two who cuddled and smiled at one another, and a smile of her own forming upon her face.

* * *

"A dragon, the master of the grey beards is a Dragon."

Amora stared before her at the golden beast; its wings spread and head low waiting to be addressed. Behind her, she heard a muttering of "it's not even got a beard" followed by laughter between the two.

Stepping up, Amora bowed her head and spoke "I am Amora, _Dovahkiin, _It is my quest to cease the reign of terror that Alduin has bestowed upon us."

The dragon too bowed its head, "I am Paarthurnax, and I will assist you. However, what you seek to do is deadly to everyone- tragedy, pain and loss will cloud the mortal realm, just like before." The dragon spoke, switching between the Dragon tongue and common tongue as he went.

"The Blades seem to think a Shout, a _Thu'um_ will secure victory, do you know of it?"

Turning its head to the side, the dragon gestured towards a word wall. "Let me tell you a story, _Reg Lokaal_."

* * *

"What did the Dragon say to you, back on the Throat of the world?" Jordis asked, her voice tingling with excitement.

"In the simplest terms, we've got to find an Elder Scroll, the one which caused this in the first place. He warned me of its power, how once I've got it I never let it leave my sight, no matter how much anyone asks for it. He also said something about my mother, but that's not for you to know."

Lydia pulled Jordis towards her, closer to the fire and away from Amora. "I think she needs a bit of time to reflect on what was said." She began "We'll make way to the College in the morrow, rest up now in the shelter of the temple; it'll be a good few days of travelling in tents. No more comforts, I'm afraid." Lydia kissed Jordis' forehead, before lying down next to the campfire.

Jordis lay next to her, coupled up in her arms. Whispering as low as she could. "You did see the figure standing next to her and the Dragon?"

Nodding her head slightly, she responded, "It was scary, like the same face only different, if it makes sense."

Jordis tilter her head upward, staring into her loves eyes "Nothing makes sense anymore."

**A/N I hate writing in the Dovah Language, purely because as a reader I know it can be annoying to read, but I've place a few well known words, plus a few which I don't want you to translate- and if you know them then good for you, you're one step ahead of everyone else reading.**


	10. Chapter 10

Awakening from her slumber-something she yearned for day in and out- the woman cautiously walked towards her wardrobe, frightened she'd slip on her rather lengthy nightgown. What caused this awakening was unknown to her, but she knew she wouldn't be able to sleep again.

Nightmares plagued her like sickness in Riften, future outcomes that may come to pass, the loss of her land, the perishing of her countries stability, the threat on her own life, many more reasons flooded to her mind, quickly slamming shut any realistic thoughts.

Of course, realistic thoughts wouldn't include a crimson haired girl riding a dragon to rescue her- those thoughts were stuck in her- no matter how hard she tried to push it away.

She would call it love, but it really isn't. It's a higher form of adoration- almost the worship- of this woman who so easily got into her life and made her think about the real issue- how thousands upon thousands of Skyrim's residents were now starving as their spouses went to war, how no man would truly be called a man if he never thought, how there's so little regard for Skyrim herself that everyone is going to stomp on it, burn the forests and the ancient temples that scatter the land. However, the one which strikes the woman so badly is the simple fact that none of Skyrim's children fight for what they love; instead fighting for what they're told is right.

Part of another nightmare, of course, is the feeling that no one is going to hear her speech she'll give out in a weeks' time. She'd planned it for a week in advance, the day the crimson beauty left for whatever task a Dragonborn was set to do. She'd hoped Amora would be in the crowed, or even standing next to her whispering encouraging words, but she knew it was a false hope. Word travels quickly, and today word had it that the Dragonborn was entering the border of Winterhold, the opposite side of where she most desired she'd be. The woman longed for adventure; but the thought of going on an adventure with the Dragonborn enticed her so much more so.

The heat on her cheeks was growing at a quickening rate- faster than a young boy running from a wolf. Her reason was obvious, any thoughts of the Dragonborn made her heart flutter and pound. She wanted to deny this, she knew she had to, but she couldn't. The feelings were hers, and she knew they couldn't go away.

So, each night, she prayed to every Divine- even the forsaken Talos- in the hopes she'd be able to love this woman as her wife.

As all things turn out, however, she also prayed that it would be allowed.

A woman loving a woman was allowed. A Jarl not having children is at the upmost of disrespect, and will most likely cause her to be exiled. And so, the woman has plans to change Skyrim before she confesses, before she plans to win the beauty over. And then, her life would be complete.

And the thought of riding a Dragon with her arms wrapped around Amora's waist was all it took for Elisif to slip on the nightgown and fall on the floor, a stupid grin plastered on her face.

* * *

"It's cold." The soft spoken sound couldn't be heard, except by Lydia who's ear was laying on her head.

"I can feel it, don't worry though Sweetie, Winterhold is just over this snow plane."

"I want fire." She muttered again, Amora turned to look at the two on their horse and decided to summon what little magic she knew and sourced up a fire, nestled neatly on the horse's mane, not burning the horse at all.

"Next time speak up, I could have helped sooner." Amora replied, smiling as Jordis began warm up.

"Winterhold's a bitch, coldest place with only one inn with three rooms. No houses apart from the dozen or so residents who- for whatever reason which is beyond me—decided to stay after the city fell into the sea." Lydia spoke swiftly, confidently, and almost egoistically. "They have nothing of an income, no trade except for snow bear pelts- which they don't even have that much of. The college is the only reason people are there, and they refuse to accept it. They almost deserve their fate."

Amora couldn't argue with Lydia though- it was all true. Winterhold was once a city, she knew, word in Cyrodiil praised it, until the city collapsed.

"At least the college is still there; maybe they've even got some studies on the Dwemer to keep my interest."

Lydia scoffed at her, "I don't know why you'd want to stay there, and it seems the madness in Skyrim comes from that shithole, you don't want to become mad do you?"

"Maybe," Amora mused out loud, "or maybe they just turn mad because they lust for power over magic? Aetherius is a unique plane, and magic is its child, it won't let anyone take over that."

"You sure do have a lot of theories, my Thane." Lydia chuckled, before running her hands around Jordis' shoulders.

"Look, that's the college!" Jordis shouted as loud as she could, which wasn't too loud considering the cold she's received.

Lydia briefly stopped her contact with Jordis' shoulders, but as a whimper of disapproval emitted from her she resumed where she left of, and Jordis smiled a little despite herself.

"I'll ride ahead, you two just stay warm." Amora stated, before causing her horse to go at a gallop towards the archway that had to be the College's entrance, seeing as the bridge extended to that point.

Winterhold was in view now, and it was primitive at best. A few houses stood, one had to be an inn, another the Jarl's longhouse, and the other a general store- besides them there were only three other houses stood- others were in ruins.

Beneath the Archway stood an Altmer, clearly she was the 'gate' guard.

"Halt." She spoke, in that haughty Altmer accent that says 'I'm better than you and you know it.' "The way is dangerous and you shall not pass, gain entry by passing the test and becoming a student if you wish."

Amora sighed; she knew this was going to end in her enrolling in the college. "I just need to seek knowledge on the Elder Scrolls, please can I enter?"

"Knowledge is only allowed for Students of the college. And why do you need to know about the Elder Scrolls?"

"It's my duty as Dragonborn." She spoke, seeing the look on the guards face she knew she actually got through that bigoted head. "I need to find a shout to defeat the World Eater."

The Altmer stepped back, "Can you…Can you shout? To prove it, of course, only that. Please?"

Amora smiled, before releasing the simplest word she could "Fus."

The Altmer smiled like a child in a sweetroll store, and as the two Housecarls rolled up and jumped off their horse they noticed how giddy the guard was.

"I can't believe it! I met the Dragonborn! No one will believe me! Oh, please join the college, I'll be your best friend and we'll study together! Oh, please?"

Startled by the Altmers behaviour Amora cocked her head slightly, "I just need to know about the Elder Scrolls, can you help?"

"Oh, of course! Please, this way, I'll get the gates open! Oh, we need to sing you the Dragonborn comes, that'll make this so much better!"

Lydia and Jordis sighed, before muttering to eachother "What's worse than an Altmer who doesn't know when to shut up?" Lydia asked.

Jordis replied with as much sarcasm as she could muster "Perhaps a Dragon burning us?"

"By us I hope you mean us cuddled in eachothers arms." Lydia smiled, and it was the cutest thing Jordis had ever seen.

"That's so adorable, Lyds" Jordis said, in a quiet voice, before pulling on Lydia's hair and bringing their lips together in a kiss.


	11. Chapter 11

**I'm so sorry about the delay in this- I've been so ill that I couldn't write. There won't be an update on Sunday due to this one, but another will follow in a week hopefully! Hope you enjoy!**

_"Tell me that love isn't important and I'll tell you that you've lived a harsh life, and you need to find that one love- because there's always one."_

"I can't believe we're going to Blackreach!" Amora squealed, earning an eye roll from both her Housecarls.

"We're going to die down there, you know?" Lydia asked; mustering all seriousness she could without laughing at the Dragonborn's childlike behaviour.

"I don't care; we're going to the best place ever! Underground, isolated, unexplored and lost in time, not to mention all the Dwarven structures and mechanics, oh this is so exciting!"

Sighing, Jordis stepped forward, in the knowledge that Lydia would either slap or knock out Amora for being ridiculous, blocking an attack from happening to either two woman. "We've got to do this, Lyds, let's not have you removed from our Thanes service, alright?

Lydia grunted, not happy at the thought of neither being removed as Housecarl nor being removed from the close proximity of Jordis.

Amora didn't even notice the conflict between the two, happily walking further to the ruins of Alftand. "All I'm worried about is that crazy old man was too crazy to actually give us reliable information, but who cares, I finally get to do what I wanted in the first place!"

Looking to her love, Jordis made Lydia focus on her. "See, listen to her, she's been through so much and only now gets to do what she wanted. Let her have this chance, please?"

Lydia, actually ashamed of herself for once, nodded, "okay," she spoke softly, "we'll go through with this but you owe me, if I lose you I won't live with myself, and if you injure yourself I'm taking you straight back to the surface."

Smiling ever so slightly, just so some of her white teeth could show, she huskily whispered, "We won't get hurt, because I owe you a night of pleasure for doing this. And you don't want to miss it."

Stumbling over the words from her love, Lydia fell off her horse into the snow covered floor, earning laughs from the two other women.

"Come on, it's just over the hill and it's getting dark. We'll set camp inside Alftand then descend when the first person wakes."

A dragon flew over solitude, creating an eclipse as he flew by- is size was larger than any seen before- and yet it didn't attack. It flew to the mountain alongside the city, no one really dared to see what it was doing up there, and with the Dragonborn gone people were scared.

Of course, what was happening meant that the citizens of Solitude had nothing to fear- infact they should rejoice in the fact that a second Dragon has arrived.

On the peak of Mount Kilkreath sat another Dragon, a dark blue one with lightning yellow accents on his wings. The approaching Dragon decreased in speed, and bowed to the one perched on the snowy mountain.

"You're the _Dovahkiin's _helper, _foloz erkriin?" _The Large black dragon spoke, voice surprisingly loud and intoxicating.

"That I am, she is the true _Thuri_- and I shall fight you if you disagree." The blue dragon spoke, causing the larger dragon to laugh out.

"I don't disagree, _Erkriin_, you speak only in the mortal language. I have to say, it's much better than our false tongue. But you've got arrogance- _niidro paak- _I would like to put you in your place, even thinking about attacking a Dragon like me will result in your own death."

"And yet you continue to talk? What is it you want?" The blue dragon asked, still confident in himself.

"I need to watch over the Queen of Solitude, mother demands it, but I am not trusted, and doubt I'll ever be. Help me by flying alongside me, you are a known friend- it's time I became one."

The blue dragon snorted in laugh "You actually wish to help people- you truly are afraid of your mother. So be it, we fly now, if you can keep up _Lokaalthur"_

"I think you forget who I am, _Lurienaxx, _fastest dragon second only to my brother, whom I shall one day thank for saving me from the afterlife, if he's not dead by the _Thuri_'s hand first."

The dragons then set flight, directly to Solitude. It took little time to reach the Capital, and both Dragons descended down to almost street level, where they could hear the commotion they were causing. The people were afraid, yet the guards did nothing to attack, something which both Dragons were thankful for.

Approaching the Blue Palace the Dragons landed, walking the rest of the way- blocking the entire street and causing quite a few cracks in the road. A lone guard stood before them, a man that seemed to be without fear.

"You are welcome here, but the other is unknown, what are you doing wreaking havoc in our streets?" The guard asked in a thick Nordic tone.

"He's been sent to protect the Jarl; it's of no more importance than that to anyone but her. So, can you fetch her for us?" Lurienaxx asked, hiding his distaste for human arrogance.

The guard didn't need to be asked again, to great relief of the two Dragons, and went inside. In only a matter of moments did the Jarl step out of the building, with a vampire standing beside her.

"Lurienaxx, it's good to see you again friend, who is this friend you have brought to us?" The jarl quizzed, intimidated to see the sight of a much larger dragon in deathly colours.

"I am here to deliver a Cousin of mine. This is Lokaalthur, he's been sent by a higher power, one much higher than you can imagine, to protect you." The blue dragon indicated to the large black one behind him, using his wings in an almost friendly gesture. "Don't ask why, I don't think my Cousin is allowed to tell you just yet- but he has accepted our Amora as _Thuri_, not the Old One or the World Eater."

The Jarl seemed a little relaxed, also physically relieved that only one word was spoken in the Dragon tongue. "So be it," The she stated, turning her attention to the Black dragon, "I welcome you Lokaalthur to our home, make yourself welcome upon the side of the mountain, and do whatever it is you were sent to do. I expect you to help us when we need help, and you can ask for anything within reason."

The Dragon nodded his head, "I'll do whatever you need of me, and in return all I ask is one small thing." The beast then motioned for his cousin to move aside, moving ever so closer to the petite Jarl.

"And what is it you ask of me?" She asked, no idea what she was expecting.

The Dragon now, only a mere metre away from the Jarl, breethed ever so calmly, "You are not to fall in Love with the _Dovahkiin._"

Struck by the words, the Jarl couldn't move. She didn't know what happened, it was going so well- another friendly Dragon! But now, she's lost her love- a love she didn't really have to begin with.

Sybille, the Vampire, then stepped forward. "She won't fall in love with the Dragonborn, I don't even know why it's a problem. She's still in mourning"- Yes, Elisif thought, mourning for a lost love "-she wouldn't fall in love again, not so quickly after witnessing the death of her husband. We welcome you to our home, now it's best if we head inside and make arrangements for…a bandit issue"

Ushering the Jarl inside, carrying her almost, she pushed her up the stairs and forced her into the Throne. "Listen to me, my Jarl, you've not lost anything at the moment- there's a Dragon out there who will probably destroy us if you even admit that you were in love with the Dragonborn, we'll work it out, stay strong."

But she couldn't- her strength came from the Dragonborn. Her hands clasped the Rose that was pinned on her tunic, and it wittered away with her harsh touch- and her tears did nothing to stop anything.


End file.
